


Clash

by Suolainensilakka



Series: Softlight [4]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, M/M, Mild Blood, Mild Gore, Original Character(s), Robogore, angst with a happy ending through dw, briefly mentioned cybertronian biology bullshit, how th fuck do i tag, softy fucks up and spot panics, some good delicious angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 17:54:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15823992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suolainensilakka/pseuds/Suolainensilakka
Summary: He should have known it would be reckless to go through a shady street late in the evening without paying attention to his surroundings. He should have known he'd get in trouble. He should have known Spotlight would be worried sick.And yet he did it anyway.





	Clash

**Author's Note:**

  * For [useeername](https://archiveofourown.org/users/useeername/gifts).



> Hi I am only a little bit sorry about this
> 
> There's some moderately detailed descriptions of bleeding wounds and physical violence here, just a lil warning for y'all
> 
> The tags are a bit concerning I know but this thing has a happy ending I swear kfgdkfFKSHKFHSKFHG
> 
> (Also this fic is pretty old as well so don't mind the occasional awkwardness lmao)

The sky outside of Software’s tattoo studio was gradually growing darker as night crept closer, and the purple minibot puttered about with a cheerful whistle as he double-checked various equipment and datapads scattered across the area. As he entered his main workshop, his optics fixated on his HUD’s chronometer, and he let out a quiet curse. Yikes, he was already late. He turned around to leave, but failed to notice the edge of a nearby table jutting out, and barely had time to register the brief flash of pain before he tumbled onto the ground with a startled yelp. He sat there for a minute, sprawled on the ground with an annoyed expression, before he pulled himself upwards with a wheeze and brushed off flecks of dust from his armor. His HUD pinged again, this time warning him of an exposed energon line in his abdomen. Software narrowed his optics, craning his helm to look at the mentioned spot, but nothing looked off. Shaking his helm with a sigh, he left the room and ignored the persistent chiming of his diagnostic program, instead focusing on the thought of finally going home after a long, particularly busy day.

 

Later at their quarters, Spotlight’s antennae immediately perked up at the sound of the door opening, and the mech smiled warmly at the sight of a familiar purple minibot entering the room and humming cheerfully. They put down the datapad they were reading and slowly got up, letting out a chuckle as Software barreled right into them, wrapping his arms around their neck in a passionate hug. Spotlight let go of Software, still smiling, watching as their conjunx beamed at them with a relieved and joyous expression.

 

“Long day at work again, eh?” Spotlight asked, chuckling warmly as the minibot clinging to him let out a small sigh and nodded dramatically.

 

“Yep,” Software drawled, dropping back onto the floor with a small grunt. “Had a lot more customers come in than usual. Sorry I’m late,” he continued, deactivating his face mask before sending an apologetic grimace to his conjunx. Spotlight merely shook their helm, still smiling.

 

“Don’t be sorry, I understand. How about you just take it easy for now, and then we can spend the rest of the evening together,” they offered, struggling not to laugh out loud as Software instantly seemed to cheer up, darting over to the couch with a loud yell of “I call dibs on the left side this time”. There was a loud creak as the cushions sank downwards under the minibot’s weight, and after a moment of squirming around, Software settled down and let out a pleased sigh. There was a brief pause.

 

“Hey, do you think we have any leftover engex here?” he asked, leaning over the armrest to look at Spotlight curiously. The latter hummed thoughtfully, tapping their cheek with a single digit.

 

“I’m not sure, let me check,” they muttered, carefully backpedaling into the kitchen, crouching down to avoid hitting their helm on the doorframe. Software listened quietly as Spotlight shuffled around, peeking into various cupboards and inspecting the different containers inside, before the large mech poked their helm back into the living room with an apologetic shrug.

 

“Yeah, we don’t have any, I’m afraid.”

 

Software paused for a second, then huffed quietly.

 

“Y’know what? I can go and get some more. It won’t take long, I promise,” he chimed, hopping off the couch and turning around towards the door. His HUD suddenly pinged again, once again warning him of the exposed energon line, and the minibot bit back an irritated growl. Spotlight, however, seemed to sense that something was off. Squinting suspiciously, they strode towards Software and gently grabbed his arm before he could leave.

 

“Hang on a second. Are you okay?” they asked, and Software internally winced at the sudden, stinging worry in their voice. He waved an unoccupied servo nonchalantly, letting out an exaggerated scoff.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a ‘lil tired, that’s all.” This time, he almost  _ did _ wince at the way Spotlight’s optics seemed to harden in alarm, as if they were remembering something that happened before. The expression was gone faster than he could safely confirm its existence, however, so he continued. “I’ll be back soon, alright?” He smiled, and gently leaned his helm towards his conjunx. Spotlight hesitated for a mere microsecond before they too leaned their helm forward with a matching smile, briefly connecting their forehelms in an affectionate headbutt.

 

“Stay safe, alright?” they murmured softly. “It’s getting pretty late.”

 

Software grinned at the larger mech, and snapped his servos into a pair of casual finger guns with a wink.

 

“Will do, darlin’.”

 

Then, with a parting wave of a servo, he turned around and skipped out of the room, disappearing through the main exit. Spotlight’s smile lingered on their face for another few seconds before a slight frown replaced it, and the medic sat down on the couch with a sigh. Hazy images of a slender, winged mech skittered past their vision, prompting Spotlight’s spark into giving a low, pulsing keen of grief. They drew in a sharp breath and shook their helm, optics squeezing shut for a moment.  _ No, don’t think about him. That’s in the past. Just focus on the present. Softy’s gonna be okay. _ They kept mentally repeating the phrase over and over like a mantra, eventually willing themself to calm down. They sank back into their seat, and another small sigh escaped their vocalizer. And yet, a small part of their mind wasn’t willing to believe the claim so easily.

 

Elsewhere, Software focused on finding his way to Blurr’s bar, humming a simple tune absentmindedly. He had already learned to ignore the persistent beeping of his HUD, but in hindsight, he did feel a bit guilty about hiding the possible injury from his conjunx. Then, his mind played back the image of Spotlight’s face, twisted into a worried frown, and Software sighed loudly. Then again, perhaps it was better that he didn’t put any unnecessary strain on the kind medic. They has enough patients to worry about without adding his minuscule and, honestly, quite insignificant injury to the list.

 

Trusting his instincts and muscle memory to lead him to the correct location, he let himself focus on deciding what type of engex to get this time. His thoughts were interrupted, however, when a clawed, yellow-armored servo suddenly shot towards him from a dark alley and roughly pulled him inside, and he didn’t even have enough time to let out a startled scream. As soon as he was able to clear out the panic-induced static from his vision, he immediately became aware of something very sharp and rough being pressed against his abdomen. Freezing in place, spark hammering against its chamber thunderously, he stared at the yellow mech crouched next to him, who had his jagged teeth bared in a threatening snarl, limbs twitching from time to time.

 

“Fifty shanix,” he hissed gutturally, plating rattling with each word. Software’s optics widened a bit, and he fought to keep his voice steady as he replied.

 

“I’m — I’m sorry, I don’t have that much,” he stammered, internally screaming out a colorful string of swears. The yellow mech narrowed his optics, and pressed the blade firmer against Software’s armor.

 

“Forty shanix.” He paused. “ _ Now _ .”

 

Software’s panic was beginning to slowly take over. He flinched at the mugger’s sharp gaze, desperately trying to figure out an escape plan.

 

“Sir, I can’t — I already told you, I don’t have that m—” his sentence was cut off when the yellow mech snarled louder, drew his servo back, and jammed the blade right into the minibot’s abdomen, easily tearing through the flexible mesh and piercing a very familiar injury.

 

The earlier message on his HUD disappeared and was immediately replaced by dozens of red, screaming warnings of rapid energon loss and a quickly spreading rust infection. Software staggered backwards with a choked wheeze, optics briefly filming over with static, and hit the dark wall behind him with a loud thud. His servos immediately moved to cover the heavily bleeding wound - his attacker had removed the blade at some point, he couldn’t remember when - and he bit back a scream. The mugger leapt on top of him, using a spiked knee to pin the much smaller minibot onto the ground while using his servos to search his frame, seemingly looking for some sort of hidden subspace pocket. Software hissed through clenched teeth, doing his best to shake off any leftover static in his vision.

 

“Get—” he paused to cough out a small splatter of energon, cringing. “—get off me,” he finished weakly, frame trembling against his will. The mech didn’t listen, still searching frantically, only occasionally pausing to check if anyone was watching.

 

Just as Software began to grimly accept his slow demise, a very familiar roar of an engine suddenly pierced the air not too far away. The noise was immediately followed by the sound of squealing tires, and Software only had a short few seconds to celebrate the newcomer’s arrival before a large white and blue ambulance slid into view and slammed against his attacker with enough force to send the smaller mech tumbling onto the ground, letting out a surprised screech in the process. Spotlight transformed and leapt at the mech, barely giving him a chance to react before they had already pinned him against a wall with an uncharacteristically terrifying snarl. Software couldn’t see what happened next as the static in his optics was rapidly getting worse, but judging by the frightened yell, a loud, echoing ‘clang’ and a faint thud that rang out shortly after, his attacker wasn’t going to bother him again any time soon.

 

A few seconds later, Spotlight’s large frame entered Software’s field of vision, and the medic bent down to reach towards him, gently moving his servos from the wound and setting their optics on the bleeding, rusty gash.

 

And that exact moment would then become the first time in his life that Software had ever heard his conjunx swear.

 

The next few hours went past faster than Software could properly keep up with. He vaguely remembered being picked up and carried to a medbay, and everything else was clouded with intense pain and static. It was only several hours later that he woke up from medical stasis, sporting fresh weld marks on his abdomen, and staring directly at Spotlight’s visor. He tried to open his mouth to say something, anything - an apology, a plea, he couldn’t decide - but the words died in his vocalizer before he could make a single noise. His and Spotlight’s sparkbond was completely blocked - no doubt Spotlight themself had put up the barrier there, for reasons he didn’t know - but there was no mistaking of the medic’s current emotion. Software could  _ feel _ the anger rolling off their frame in waves, and he fought the urge to flinch.

 

Much later at their quarters, Spotlight opened the door and walked inside, shoulders tense and face unnaturally blank. Software slowly trailed behind them, helm held low and limbs trembling ever-so-slightly. There was a long, heavy silence as the minibot decided on what he should say. Before he could open his mouth to speak, however, Spotlight stopped pacing and stood still, back turned towards Software.

 

“You promised.”

 

Software froze for a second, his earlier panic slowly starting to creep in.

 

“You promised that you’d be honest about your injuries,” Spotlight continued. Their voice was kept carefully neutral and steady, but it was just a tad too forced to feel natural. Their sparkbond was still blocked.

 

Software processed the sentence for a moment, then internally slapped himself with a silent, distressed snarl. Oh,  _ of course _ . He went on to respond, but Spotlight simply kept going.

 

“Normally, a regular rust knife shouldn’t be able to pierce armor mesh that easily, let alone cause any significant damage, but you had an exposed energon line hidden near your fuel pump.” They slowly turned around, optics peering through their visor directly into Software’s own. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

Software let out a shaky sigh, squeezing his optics shut for a moment.

 

“I… I don’t know. I didn’t see anything wrong and I  _ felt _ fine, I so just assumed that my diagnostic program has fritzed.” He paused for a second. “I’m sorry,” he added quietly. The instant he looked back at Spotlight, however, he immediately regretted his words. The medic’s expression had hardener dramatically, and their antennae were pinned back in a subconscious sign of anger. There was a low, ominous rumble building up in their engine.

 

“If you thought that it had malfunctioned, it still implies that something wasn’t quite right,” they replied tensely, leaning slightly closer. “Why didn’t you just  _ tell _ me?” they asked again, with more force this time. Software unconsciously took a step backwards.

 

“I— I don’t know! I didn’t want you to worry,” he stammered, expression shifting into a fearful grimace.

 

Suddenly, there was a loud pop, and Spotlight’s visor fizzled out in a cloud of glowing, blue pixels. They quickly waved a servo in front of their face to clear out the remaining bits, and a loud snarl broke its way through their vocalizer. They turned to glare directly into Software’s optics, eyebrows furrowed dangerously, fangs bared.

 

“Worry my  _ aft _ , at least we could have avoided this entire situation in the first place!” they bit out, and Software flinched. “Do you know what could have happened if I didn’t get to you in time?” they took a step forward. “Do you know what would have happened if the rust had spread to your spark chamber?” they continued, voice gradually rising as their carefully constructed emotional mask crumbled to pieces with each word. Software’s spark was drumming against his throat now.

 

“Spot, please—” he tried, optics wide and arms held upwards in a placating manner, but—

 

“YOU ALMOST DIED!” Spotlight roared, and Software immediately shut his mouth, freezing in place. Still, Spotlight wasn’t done. “You almost died, and I would have been powerless to stop it,” they said, voice trembling. A short silence fell, and Spot drew in several deep breaths, shoulders still tense, and servos curling into fists.

 

“I lost my old conjunx to this  _ same exact mistake _ . I can’t let it happen again.” They shakily inhaled once more, and squeezed their optics shut. Then, they continued, voice eventually cracking. “I can’t lose you.”

 

There was a brief pause as Software registered the meaning of the words. His optics went even wider. 

 

“You had a—” he sputtered, but before he could continue, the barrier was suddenly removed from the sparkbond and a wave of various garbled emotions and hazy memories slammed into Software’s processor with the force of a runaway freight train. Images of a white and teal seeker with warm, cyan optics flickered past his vision, clouded with emotions of anger, remorse and regret so intense that Software nearly toppled over, only barely managing to stabilize his footing before the images changed into those of a fiery battlefield and distant, spark-wrenching screaming. Software winced when he recognized the screaming as Spotlight’s own, and he could barely contain a gasp of pain when his spark let out an anguished keen, no doubt experiencing phantom flashes of Spotlight’s own agony from the memories.

 

Then, just as soon as they had appeared, the memories slowly faded away, but the image of an energon-splattered corpse with faded optics and a crushed spark, held by Spotlight’s trembling servos, lingered at the edge of his vision. There was a long, heavy silence, before Software slowly let his helm sink into his palms, voice quivering.

 

“Oh Primus,” he whispered. “Oh Primus.”

 

Spotlight didn’t respond. Their back was turned towards Software again, and they were leaning on a nearby table, shoulders hunched. Everything was silent for a minute or two.

 

Then, slowly, the purple minibot approached his conjunx, moving as silently as he could, as if he was afraid of scaring the larger mech away. He was quiet for a moment longer.

 

“I’m sorry,” he began, voice so low he wasn’t even sure if Spotlight could hear him. “I didn’t mean to freak you out. I really didn’t.”

 

Spotlight said nothing, and for a few seconds Software was almost ready to panic again before his conjunx’s voice sounded gently through the sparkbond,  _ ‘I know you didn’t.’ _ The medic briefly turned to look at him, and Software almost winced at their expression. Their optics were empty - not because they didn’t care, no, but because they were already so drained from their earlier rant - and there were faint tear stains going down their cheeks. Then, they turned away again, expression hardening just a bit.  _ ‘But that still doesn’t make it okay’ _ .

 

Software tilted his helm downwards, sighing quietly. Then, slowly, he took another step forward and opened his arms in a wordless invitation, gently nudging the sparkbond with a silent but no less meaningful apology. Spotlight looked at him for a moment, then slowly crouched down and wrapped their arms around his smaller frame. They accepted his apology - albeit hesitantly and a tad bitterly, but still - and Software finally let himself relax. He buried his helm into the crook of Spotlight’s neck and sighed, closing his optics. Spotlight hugged him tighter in return. There was a short pause, and then Software could feel something small and liquid hit his armor with a tiny splash, and cracked one optic open to see more tears trailing down his conjunx’s face. Their expression was much calmer now, however, so Software simply hugged them tighter and let the tears fall.

 

The pair stayed like that for quite some time, never letting go of each other’s embrace.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> See I told y'all this thing had a (mostly) happy ending I'm not heartless enough to seriously hurt these two sgfjFHFGH


End file.
